


Anyone Can Walk On Water

by stardust_and_sunlight



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (was Maura16), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, M/M, and that's it, i was at a beach, so cute, so i wrote them at a beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_and_sunlight/pseuds/stardust_and_sunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun was burning bright in a beautiful clear blue sky, and Bossuet and Bahorel were carefully and thoroughly burying Grantaire in the sand. </p><p>[Les Amis are at the beach. Much mischief occurs.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anyone Can Walk On Water

**Author's Note:**

> Hello it's been a while! I started this fic when I was on a beach in France in July 2015, and it took me this long to write it because whenever I worked on it I just really missed France and had to stop.  
> Life's been a bit shitty recently and I just wanted to get something posted because I'd hit a bit of a wall, fic-wise, and finishing something is surely a way to help that? idk  
> The title is from the song [Give It Back To You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58KCycvOcb0) by Barenaked Ladies, and the full lyric is "anyone can walk on water, just before they drown" and I love it, but it's a bit more angsty than the vibe I was going for...  
> ANYWAY your kudos and comments mean the world to me and I hope you like this!

The sun was burning bright in a beautiful clear blue sky, and Bossuet and Bahorel were carefully and thoroughly burying Grantaire in the sand. He was laughing, only his head visible as they packed sand over his body. Enjolras was entirely unsurprised to see that they were shaping breasts over his chest. 

"Like Joey in that Friends episode," said Courf sleepily from his towel beside Enjolras, and Enjolras looked at him blankly, but he just laughed and closed his eyes again. 

Combeferre was lying next to Courfeyrac, reading, seeming entirely unfazed by the heat. Musichetta was applying a fifth layer of sun cream to Joly's pale shoulders, wearing a yellow and white bikini which shone bright against her dark skin. Jehan and Feuilly were further down the beach, in the wet sand nearer the sea, constructing a massive and truly impressive sand castle. Cosette, her long hair twisted up under a sunhat, had her camera out, taking pictures of the sky and the sand and the sea and her friends and especially Marius and Éponine, who were deep out in the water, laughing and diving over the huge waves.

Enjolras smiled and lay back down, closing his eyes. He had his own book with him, a dry text that he was reading for uni, but the sun was beating down on him and his friends were having fun around him and he couldn’t quite force himself to leave this peaceful moment.

There was sudden noise as Éponine and Marius came traipsing back up the beach, soaking wet and breathless and giggling, and Cosette squealed as they engulfed her in a hug, laughing as she tried to escape.

“You’re too cold,” she complained, and they flopped down on their towels on either side of her, weak with laughter, but she reached over and took their hands, smiling happily.

Bossuet and Bahorel seemed to have finished their burial of Grantaire and were now taking pictures of their masterpiece, almost falling over with laughter. Cosette scrambled to her feet, ignoring Éponine and Marius’ complaints as she grabbed her camera, continuing with her quest to document their entire summer.

Enjolras watched, smiling, as Grantaire grinned so hard his eyes creased shut, Cosette snapping picture after picture as Bahorel and Bossuet capered manically around him.

Everyone was laughing, everyone was happy, Cosette taking pictures of all of them but none of them self-conscious, just enjoying the moment, watching as Grantaire wiggled about, trying in vain to free himself.

He glowered up at everyone, futilely trying to push himself out of the compacted sand. “Are you going to help?” he said snarkily.

Éponine smirked, sunglasses sitting on her head and a book in her hand, grinning at him. “Why would we? This is much funnier.”

Eventually, swearing and grumbling at everyone as they laughed at him, he managed to escape from the sand, cursing as he did so, and got awkwardly to his feet, sand cascading off of him.

“God,” Grantaire said, looking down at himself, “I’m going to go for a swim, I have sand literally everywhere.”

“Eww,” Éponine said from where she was sprawled, wrinkling her nose, “I did not need to know that.”

Grantaire stuck his tongue out at her, and then chuckled. “Anyone coming with me?”

“I’ll come for a swim,” Enjolras said, surprisingly himself. “What?” he said defensively, as everyone looked at him. “It’s hot. I’d like to cool down.” He stood up, stretching, wincing at the heat of the sand on his bare feet. He took off his sunglasses, carefully placing them on top of his book, and then turned to smile at Grantaire, who was looking at him bemusedly, coated in sand.

He laughed. “Shall we?” he said, and Grantaire grinned suddenly.

“Race you to the water,” he said, and then he was running down the beach. Enjolras swore, and sprinted after him, sand burning his feet as he sped along. The tide was as far out, and soon Enjolras was running on smooth, damp sand, sharp shells jagging his feet.

Grantaire had stopped just before the water when Enjolras caught up, breathless and exhilarated. Grantaire smiled. “Run in together?”

Enjolras grinned. “Let’s go,” he said, and then they were running, Grantaire whooping with the cold, Enjolras gasping, splashing and jumping over the waves and laughing as they went. Grantaire tripped and fell, emerging from the water drenched, mouth open in shock, and Enjolras barely had time to laugh before Grantaire lunged at him, and he was falling, into the icy water.

He surfaced spluttering and shivering, Grantaire guffawing beside him, jumping up over a huge wave and diving under another, and then Enjolras was laughing too, unexpectedly exhilarated as they leapt and fell and dived and splashed out deeper and deeper, pushing each other over and spraying water and grinning all the while.

“I love the beach,” Enjolras said contemplatively. They had swum out far enough that they couldn’t reach the ground, past the biggest waves, and were floating quietly, smiling peacefully, buffeted every so often by the tide.

Grantaire let out a contented sigh. “Me too,” he said, and a small swell pushed them closer together, their legs brushing against each other.

Enjolras swung his body back under the water, just his head poking out the water, and looked over at Grantaire. The other man looked totally peaceful, wet curls clinging to his head, water drops nestled in his collarbones, tattoos stark and beautiful against his light brown skin. His eyelashes were long, Enjolras noticed bizarrely, brushing against his skin with his eyes closed as they were.

Enjolras shook his head, realising he was staring creepily at Grantaire, and glanced back at the shore. They had floated far out, and he looked at Grantaire again, unwillingly to break the quiet.

“We should head back,” he said reluctantly, and Grantaire’s eyes opened, squinting against the sun.

He sighed heavily, and then started paddling, moving his arms and legs frantically until his head was next to Enjolras’.

“Tow me in?” he pleaded, and Enjolras laughed, splashing him in the face. He choked and dipped under the water, coming up gasping and wheezing, splashing Enjolras right back.

“We’ll never get back if you keep splashing me,” Grantaire said, pouting, and Enjolras smirked at him.

“Don’t be so lazy then,” he said, and Grantaire grumbled loudly, the small smile on his face belaying his seeming annoyance, and then he started to swim, and Enjolras followed, pushed forward by waves and pulled back by the swell.

Enjolras’ feet touched sand and he straightened up, water dripping down his face and off his shoulders, still up to his chest in the water. Grantaire splashed down beside him, his hair messy and soaking, eyes bright with humour and mischief. They were very close together, and Grantaire’s laughter faded and Enjolras took a tiny step forward and then they were kissing and Grantaire’s lips were soft and he tasted like salt water and then a huge wave crashed over their heads and they broke apart under the water, coming up spluttering and shocked. They met each other’s eyes and it was awkward for the tiniest moment and they were laughing again, Grantaire's eyes scrunching up and his shoulders shaking.

“We could continue this another time?” Enjolras asked, then immediately regretting it as Grantaire’s laughter stopped, his eyes meeting Enjolras’.

“Or, I mean, we can just pretend it didn’t happen if you want,” Enjolras mumbled, hunching in on himself, and then Grantaire’s hand was under his chin, gently forcing him up to meet his gaze.

“Definitely,” he said, and pressed another kiss to Enjolras’ lips.

They stayed close together as they waded to shore, smiling at each other as they emerged, both of them trying without talking about it to look normal and cool, conscious of the gossips their friends were when it came to burgeoning relationships. They wandered casually up the beach, unable to stop grinning at each other, stopping to admire Feuilly and Jehan’s sandcastle, eventually making it back to their friends and flopping down on their towels.

Enjolras stretched back, closing his eyes. He was exhausted and drained and so fucking happy, feeling the hot sun dry his skin. He must have dozed off, content and peaceful, and he started when someone spoke to him.

“You’ll need to put more sun cream on,” Cosette said, and he opened his eyes, squinting up at her, feeling warm and tired and languid.

“Where did everyone go?” Enjolras asked, noticing for the lack of people around. Grantaire was sprawled on his own towel, studiously ignoring him, Jehan and Feuilly had been joined by Éponine and were constructing some kind of moat for their castle, and Joly was a towel-covered lump, presumably asleep.

“They went to get ice-cream,” Cosette said, “they didn’t want to wake you up, but I didn’t want you to burn.”

Enjolras pushed himself up so he was sitting, frowning at her. She looked perfectly innocent, but he’d known her for a long time and there was mischief in those guileless eyes.

“What is it?” he said suspiciously and she smiled wickedly.

“Well, I was taking pictures of the sea, you know, and then I was taking pictures of you and Grantaire because I want pictures of everyone for my scrapbook. And there’s loads of you,” she said, holding the camera and flicking through the pictures, “loads of you splashing and jumping over waves and oh I like that one, you’re kissing just before a wave hits you...”

Enjolras stiffened, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Grantaire twitch. Cosette grinned at him with a positively evil look in her eye. “Something you’d like to tell me, big brother?” she asked, smirking and Enjolras groaned, sinking back down onto the towel.

“I don’t suppose I can persuade you not to post them yet?” he asked, defeated.

Cosette pretended to think, and then leaned down, enveloping Enjolras in a hug made awkward by the angle and whispering in his ear, “I’ll hold it for a while. Let you sort it out, okay?” She straightened up and climbed to her feet, slinging her camera around her neck and turning, squinting across the beach to where the distant figures of their friends were visible, laden with ice creams.

She turned back and looked down at Enjolras. “Hey, Enj,” she said, face suddenly serious, “don’t fuck this up, okay?”

And Enjolras could only stare blankly after her as she ran off, throwing her arms around Éponine and stealing Marius’ ice cream.

A strange noise made him turn around to see Grantaire, shoulders heaving with laughter. “I love Cosette, I do,” he choked out, “but she’s terrifying.”

Enjolras nodded in agreement and then smiled at Grantaire as his laughter subsided. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asked abruptly, not giving himself time to second guess.

Grantaire propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at Enjolras in the bright sun. “I’d love to,” he said, and Enjolras let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, beaming ridiculously at Grantaire, who had an equally big smile on his face, much to Enjolras’ gratification.

And they probably would have stayed like that for god knows how long, grinning inanely and happily at each other, but at that point their friends arrived, noisy and boisterous and affectionate and sticky from ice cream that had melted in the time it took to walk back, and Enjolras slumped back down onto his towel, put his sunglasses back on, and smiled.

(Cosette kept the photos to herself for over two weeks. In that time, Enjolras and Grantaire had gone on three dates and had seven arguments and were deliriously ridiculously happy (no-one was surprised). Enjolras logged onto facebook one morning to find that Cosette had somehow hacked into his account and changed his cover photo. And he couldn’t even be angry at her.

The photo was incredible, the sea and the sky and him and Grantaire, kissing in the water and a wave poised perfectly over them, captured in the moment, just about to crash over them, the sun shining off the water and everything bright and stunning. It was beautiful, and Enjolras knew he could never tell Cosette how grateful he was. So instead he grumbled and moaned at her as she smirked at him, and then he printed off a copy and stuck it to his wall, to remind him of that perfect moment.)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/holIyshort) -come and say hi!


End file.
